


Breath

by justalittlegreen



Series: Sunshine and Filth [31]
Category: MASH (1970), MASH (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Nightmares, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 11:01:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16785652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalittlegreen/pseuds/justalittlegreen
Summary: CW: choking, ptsd





	1. Chapter 1

Peggy wakes a few times over the next few hours, but BJ is sleeping like an undisturbed log. His arm is still heavy over her chest, and he doesn't rustle or turn over when she slips out to use the bathroom. When she climbs back in, the moonlight's on his face.  
  
He's aged so much. It's not just the gray, the lines on his face, but the BJ she married slept as happily as the dog. Sometimes, his his eyes crinkled in his sleep, like someone was telling jokes in his dreams. She hasn't seen that since he returned. Instead, there's worry. His jaw clenches. He either tosses and turns or sleeps heavily and still, like this. Sometimes he admits to having nightmares, on mornings when he can't hide the fact that he's woken up in a cold sweat. Her mother had warned her, tried to prepare her for the changes, for the possibility that he could snap, get suddenly angry, or disappear entirely, but Peg's grateful that she hasn't seen hardly any of that.

_Maybe Hawkeye kept him whole enough to leave the worst of it behind._

She crawls back under his arm, facing him this time, snuggling against his stomach and sliding a leg over his hip. She tries not to think of Hawkeye, or morning.

The next time she wakes up, he's choking her.

**

This time, she was dreaming - dreaming that a giant snake with Hawkeye's face slithered up her (naked, why did it have to be naked) body, coiled around her chest and menacingly slid over and around her throat. In her dream, Peg tried to scream and all that game out was a gasp, as she wrestled with the snake, trying to pull it away as it began to twist and squeeze, tighter and -

BJ's arm is at her throat.

Peg's hands fly to his elbow, so focused on pulling him away from her she doesn't realize how hard he's thrashing at her back. She tries to gasp his name and it comes out as a croak. She's starting to see stars, and she scrambles at his skin, digging her nails in and trying to hurt him enough to wake. It doesn't seem to work, but now he's kicking at the blankets, getting twisted up in them and gives a terrifying scream.

And suddenly, she's free. Peg instinctively rolls away, toward the other side of the bed, coughing and gulping and checking her neck for injury. It's not more than a second before she turns around to see Hawkeye on their bed, kneeling over BJ, who has moved his grip to Hawkeye's waist and appears no more awake than before. Hawkeye looks up at her.   
  
"Are you all right? Can breathe? Does anything hurt?" The questions come in what she recognizes as a doctor's voice - calm, fast, clipped. It would sound less odd if he weren't also half-wrestling BJ into the pillows, straddling his hips and leaning his forearms on BJ's shoulders as BJ kicks and moans.   
  
Peg nods.   
  
"How often does this happen?" again, the calmness, but this time with more of an edge - a protective note of underlying ferocity. She can't tell if it's meant for her, or for BJ. She shakes her head. "It hasn't," she croaks. "I've never seen this before."  
  
Hawkeye's eyebrows shoot up. " _Never_? Oh my gd. Peggy, I'm so sorry - I'm so sorry."  
  
Just then, BJ falls still, as suddenly as he started, and Hawkeye looks down at the taller man's face. "I've got you, Beej," he says softly "You're all right, I've got you. You're home, Beej. Home. Not Korea." 

He cradles BJ's head in his hands, leaning down and whispering by his ear, a steady, soothing stream, "Are you here with me? Can you hear me? I've got you. You're okay, we're okay, shhhh."   
  
Peg hears BJ crying. A quiet, high keening, a wordless sob. She starts across the bed but Hawkeye looks up and shakes his head slightly, mouthing _no._ He spends another minute easing BJ down, crawling off him and lying next to him, rubbing a hand down his cheek, over his back, fixing the covers until BJ is back to sleep, having not ever really been awake. Peg watches with tears streaming down her face, unsure whether she's in shock or awe, or both.

After he's sure BJ is down for good, Hawkeye nimbly crawls out of their bed and moves quickly toward Peggy. "Come with me," he says, still in doctor mode, and she follows him out, down the hall to the bathroom, where he flips on the light.  
  
"Let me see your neck. That's where he got you, isn't it?"   
  
"Yeah," Peg rasps. She lifts her hair off her neck and Hawkeye peers at her skin, fingers lightly tracing and probing over the already-forming bruises. "Does it hurt when I press here? Can you feel this? Can you take a deep breath for me?" She nods and obeys, letting him check her over the way she lets BJ put on his doctor self every time she twists an ankle.   
  
Finally, Hawkeye steps back and sits on the edge of the tub, rubbing his eyes. Peggy slides down the doorjamb and huddles her knees to her chin.   
  
"It's going to hurt like the dickens, and you're going to want to take up wearing scarves for a few days, but I don't think anything's crushed or broken," he says. "I - I don't know what to say, Peggy."  
  
"Thank you," she whispers. "Thank you for coming. For making sure I was okay. I don't know what I would've done otherwise."  
  
He waves her off. "You're telling me it's really never happened before?"  
  
She shakes her head. "Never. It must have just been a Korea thing."  
  
"A Korea thing." He gives a humorless chuckle.   
  
"How often did it happen there?"  
  
Hawkeye sighs. "It didn't happen unless - unless we were sleeping together. We'd be - Peggy, are you sure you want to hear this?"  
  
"I don't know," she admits. "But I do know that I need to understand. He could've killed me."  
  
"I know," he mutters. "And it's going to kill him in the morning when he sees you."

That much, she knows.

"The rest of us would yell and complain and mourn all around him, but he was our rock. He was our sunshine. It wasn't just me, Peggy - it was everyone. I made them laugh, but he made them hope. But of course, he was as full of rage and grief as the rest of us. And I think it only came out when he felt - oddly enough, when he felt safe."  
  
"Did he know he was doing it?" It hurts so much to talk.  
  
"He knew in the morning, when he'd see the bruises he left on me. You can imagine how guilty he felt. After a few times, I learned how to sleep so I wouldn't be so compromised if he started up in the night. That's how I learned - well, what you saw in there. I could get him back down without waking him up. Waking him up was torture - he'd be disoriented, wild, throwing swings. This way, if you can believe it, is safer. I'm worried about you, honestly. I'm not as strong as he is, but I can do it - I'm not sure how you can."  
  
Peggy's head feels suddenly full and heavy, like someone's stuffed it with rocks. "I need to get back to bed," she whispers. "Do you think he'll - do you think it's safe?"  
  
"I don't know," Hawkeye says. "Do you want to take the couch, or my room? I can take the couch and -"  
  
"And leave him to wake up alone?" she shakes her head. "No, I need to go back in there, or I'm not sure if I'll ever - if I'll be too scared to -" she trails off. He nods, understanding.  
  
"What if I came in and slept on the floor next to you in case anything...happens?" he suggests. "I'm not trying to get in the way, or intrude, or - I promise, Peggy, I swear I'm not trying to make my way into your marriage bed."  
  
Peg feels the tiniest smile playing across her lips. "It's not an intrusion if you're invited."  
  
He walks her down the hall with an arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders, somewhere between a big brother and a comrade. BJ is still sleeping when they get inside, and they slide in on either side of him. She watches Hawkeye tuck his hands under the pillow, and she realizes that's it - his forearms protect his neck. She does the same, hoping she won't roll over in her sleep.  
  
The next time she wakes up, the sun is coming through the curtains, and BJ is sitting up in bed and staring at her in horror.


	2. Exhale

"I'm okay," Peg tries to say, before BJ can say anything, but winces before the words make it out. She can feel the bruises every time she moves her mouth. She sits up, looking for Hawkeye, who's on the other side of the bed and still sleeping. BJ's frozen in place, staring at her neck, eyes brimming, hands shaking. She can feel the shame rolling off him in waves.

Peg reaches out for one of his hands, and BJ pulls away from her, folding his long body, pulling his knees up to his chin, wrapping his arms around them, tucking his hands under his knees. She lays a hand on his miserable, hunched shoulder and BJ actually flinches like she's hit him, drawing a whimper from somewhere deep and painful.

Peg looks past him helplessly. "Hawkeye!" she says, as loud as she dares, regretting the effort already. But it works - he's instantly awake, rolling over, taking it in. He sits up and wraps an arm around BJ's curled back. BJ shakes him off.  
  
"Beej," he says, and his voice is low, urgent, "She's okay. I checked her myself. She's not angry. And I'm not either. She understands, _Beej_ -"

BJ tucks his head into his knees and sobs. His arms grip his knees so tightly, Peg sees them turning from red to white. She looks to Hawkeye.   
  
"So what do we do now?"  
  
Hawkeye sighs. "We wait. Or, in the case of history, some choppers fly overhead, drop a dozen wounded and he snaps out of it so he can start fixing them. But -"  
  
" - he can't fix me," she finishes.   
  
"Yeah," he says. "Look, let's give him a few minutes and go make some coffee. You up for that?"   
  
"I don't want to leave him."  
  
"Yeah but I think if you stay with him he's going to go completely catatonic with guilt." 

She can't argue with that. She leans over and presses a kiss to the top of his head. "I'll be right downstairs, darling. Come get coffee when you're ready, all right?"  
  
She looks up at Hawkeye. "Your turn."  
  
His eyes darken with something she can't name, but she nods at BJ, trying to get Hawkeye the message. _He needs you._ Hawk leans over and drops the lightest kiss into BJ's hair. "I'm taking care of her," he murmurs. "I'm not going to let anything bad happen." He looks up at Peggy. "Why don't you get that coffee started and I'll be along in a minute."

As she leaves the room, she hears Hawkeye quietly begging, "Please, Beej. Come back. Come back to us."

**

She scrambles a few eggs but neither of them eat much. They worry their cups of coffee at the table, looking at the morning paper.  
  
"It says here," Hawkeye reads, "that they're going to open an amusement park devoted entirely to Mickey Mouse next year." He snorts into his coffee. "Can you just imagine it? Thousands of children running around riding roller coasters and sucking the helium out of their balloons to get their impressions right."  
  
Peg grins - it hurts too much to laugh. "We'll have to take Erin."   
  
"Yeah," Hawkeye says. "Do you - do you have a photo album of her first years? I got to see the handful you sent Beej - so many times - but I'd love to see more."  
  
Peg's a little surprised, but happily grabs the leatherbound maroon album and spreads it open. She and Hawkeye pour through the photos, through Erin looking fussily precious in a baptism gown and bassinet, Erin halfway crawling on the living room floor, Erin with a dandelion behind her ear, Erin with Peggy's mother on her first birthday. "She's with her this weekend," Peg explains. "She loves having her."

Hawkeye points to a picture of Erin at the table. "Is that jam all over her face?" Peg laughs for a second, until it hurts too much. "Yup. I made this batch of jam and it didn't turn out, it - "  
  
"It burned," Hawkeye says softly. "It burned. And she ate it anyway?"  
  
Peg nods. "You knew about that?"  
  
Hawkeye fixes his gaze on the album, tracing a delicate finger over the photo of Erin and the jam. "I knew about all of them."  
  
"All of what?"  
  
"Well, not everything. But everything he was willing to share - and that was most of it. I remember when you tried to fix the sink and flooded the kitchen. I remember when you wrote him a letter in the dog's voice. I remember when you told him the neighbor made a pass at you and he stomped around camp for a whole day."  
  
"He did?"  
  
"I'm sure he didn't want you to know. It wasn't that he was jealous - he felt so guilty that he wasn't home with you two. That he wasn't there to protect you, to fix things. He was missing everything, and it ate him up inside."  
  
"What did you tell him?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"What did you say to him the day he got angry about the neighbor?"  
  
Hawkeye offers her a small, genuine smile. "I told him he had nothing to worry about. And I was right."  
  
She smiles back. "He didn't."  
  
Hawkeye's face gets serious again. "But you did."  
  
She takes a deep breath. Are they really going there? Here, now?  
  
"You never told him about my letter, did you?"  
  
Peg shakes her head. "Not until about three days ago."  
  
Hawkeye whistles. "You must have hated me. You must have been so angry."  
  
"I was," Peg admits. "Sometimes, apparently, I still am."  
  
"You have every right to be."   
  
"For what? For loving him? For keeping him together when his world fell apart? For holding him while he - " she gasps, the pain of speaking louder cutting into her throat like a knife - "while he tried to hurt you in his sleep? That's why I should be angry?"  
  
Hawkeye leans an elbow on the table and rests his cheek in his palm. "Of course. Of course you should. You're angry because you wish you'd been there. Or that he'd never gone."  
  
Peg breaks into tears again, scrubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. She feels a tentative hand on her shoulder.   
  
"Listen, Peggy, I don't need - I don't need you to forgive me for being where you couldn't. I don't need you to forgive me for putting him at risk, for the fact that my loving him puts us both in danger in this world. I just need you to know that I never, not for a second, wanted to come between you and BJ. He's too madly in love with you to let something like me wreck it. I listened to him read those letters over and over again because I wanted - I wanted to know every little piece of him that I could. And you and Erin are huge pieces of him. I couldn't know him - I couldn't love him - without loving you two, too."  
  
 _Something like me_. The phrasing doesn't escape her for a second. Here is another glimpse of that small, hurt man from the end of the war. Someone who sees himself as a burden first, a doctor second, and a man in a distant third. Without looking up, she reaches for his shoulder and squeezes it slightly, their heads coming closer together.  
  
Someone lets out a long sigh in the corner. They look up. BJ's face is swollen and streaked with tears, but there's something clear in his eyes. Something hopeful. Something like light.  
  



	3. Inhale

Peg gets up from the table and firmly puts her arms around BJ before he can shrink or run away again. He hugs her so gently she hardly feels him; his breath is shallow against her ear. She rests her head against his chest, leans on him until he's pinned between her and the wall. "It's all right," she says, pulling back for a minute so she can look him in the eye. "BJ, look at me. It's not that bad."

He lifts her hair up and does the same inspection Hawkeye did the night before, testing for injury and pain, and she lets him assure himself that the damage isn't serious. "I can't believe I did that to you," he whispers mournfully. "Peg, how will you ever forgive me?"  
  
"The real question is: how are we going to help you?" she answers. "The war took enough of you from me, darling. I'm not letting it steal you from my bed."  
  
From the table, Hawkeye snorts and desperately tries to muffle it. Peg turns to him. "Listen, I thought you said we were sharing." The joke slips out unbidden, and this time, Hawkeye grins for real, with something like surprise. Or gratitude.  
  
Peg turns back to BJ and puts her hands gently on his chest. "I want you to take a shower and get dressed," she tells him firmly. "Hawkeye and I need to finish our talk, and you'll feel better once you've washed your face." He opens his mouth to protest, and she holds up a finger. "Take it from someone who's done a lot of hard crying in the last two years," she says, some warmth coming back to her rasping voice. "It helps."

"Okay," BJ whispers. She lets him go down the hall and comes back to the table.  
  
"Did we have something to finish?" he asks. "I wasn't sure."  
  
Peg looks him dead in the eye. "We - we need to figure out how we're sleeping tonight," she, feeling her stomach clench and flutter as she says it.  
  
"Peg, I don't need - I'm fine where I am. Or, if you're worried, we can do what we did last night. I have no intention of kicking you out," he says calmly, shaking his head for emphasis. "I didn't expect - I didn't expect anything when I came. I know my place here."  
  
She cocks her head. "Do you? Because I sure don't."  
  
"How do you mean?"  
  
"You were lovers in Korea."  
  
His eyes narrow, and she can feel him pulling away from her slightly. "Yes..." he says carefully. 

"You shared a - I don't know, a bed, a cot, a tent." He nods. "Right again."  
  
"You held each other. You held each other up when you were too exhausted and bitter to stand, and you held each other down when you had nightmares."  
  
"Peggy, can I ask where this is going?"  
  
Peg leans her elbows on the table, covering her mouth with one hand as the tears come. "When you came in the door yesterday, when I saw you two - I can't explain exactly how I felt. It felt right. I was happy for him. Happy for you. The jealousy and the fear didn't come in until later."  
  
"The opposite of jealousy," Hawkeye says softly. "It's a hell of a gift, isn't it?"  
  
She nods, wiping her eyes with a knuckle.   
  
"I know," he continues, "because I have it, too. Every time I see you two. Every time he talked about you, got that wonderfully moony, peaceful look on his face. I used to watch him call you for a glimpse of that."  
  
"You weren't ever jealous?"  
  
"Of course I was," he says quickly. "How could I not be? How could I ever measure up to the perfect Peggy Hayden? Sometimes he would say something - something about going home, or what he would do after the war, and I would get so upset because I wasn't included in it, and I knew I had no right to wish to _be_ included. I hated the idea that I could get in the way of your happiness together. And most of the other times, I tried to protect his happiness, knowing that meant protecting your marriage, however I could. And in the best moments -" he sighs, and a sad smile emerges. "In the best moments, when he would tell me that there was room for both of us, that he loved us both, I could almost imagine it."  
  
"Imagine what?"  
  
"The three of us. And Erin."  
  
Peg rests her head in her hands. "I'm so scared, Hawkeye. I'm scared about what happened last night, I'm scared of losing him, and I'm scared that if I drive you away, I'll lose him anyway. And, frankly, I'm scared of hurting you. You, who didn't do anything more wrong than love him." The words _as much as I do_ float to the top of her tongue, but she shuts them away. Instead, she changes topics before he can respond.  
  
"When you imagined the three of us, what exactly were you imagining?"  
  
Hawkeye blushes to the roots of his hair and stammers. Peggy feels a smirk on her lips that she wouldn't have imagined an hour, or a day ago. "I - I imagined us, um - " he stammers.   
  
She starts to chuckle, wincing through the pain. "Are you telling me you've had impure thoughts about me, _Benjamin Franklin Pierce_?" she asks in mock-horror, throwing his full name into it so he'll know she's half kidding.  
  
"Would you believe me if I said mostly, I imagined you curled up on the couch and reading out loud from Last of the Mohicans?" he mumbles, ducking away from her. Peg snorts. "Nope. Not for a second."  
  
"Okay, okay! Well, it's not that I never ever thought about - you're a beautiful woman and I'm pretty helpless in such circumstances, just ask your husband!"  
  
"Ask your husband what?"  
  
BJ rounds the corner in a pair of beaten dungarees and a white t-shirt, barefoot and clean-shaven, hair still gleaming from his shower. She watches Hawkeye take him in from head to toe, half-agog. She grins. Ben Franklin can't hide a damn thing he's thinking if he tries. She gets up to bring BJ his cup of coffee. "How helpless he is when there are pretty girls in the vicinity," she answers, grabbing the sugar.  
  
"Helpless? Sure. But the real word you're looking for is hopeless," BJ quips. "I watched this guy strike out more often than a nervous five year old in Little League."   
  
"That's only because it was a charade at that point!" Hawkeye protests. "I needed an excuse to come home to -" he stops. "Nevermind."  
  
"You needed cover. Of course you did." The mood settles over the kitchen, gentler than before.  
  
"Darling?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Hawkeye and I were just discussing who's going to sleep where tonight."  
  
"I'm taking the couch," BJ says immediately. "I'm not going to be anywhere I can't promise I'll be safe. It's too great a risk. Monday morning I'll get some tranquilizers from the hospital and hopefully that will keep me down at night, and -"  
  
" - and that's a stupid idea." Peg interrupts firmly. "I'm not going to have you drugged and on the couch for who knows how long. I'm your _wife._ You belong with _me,"_ she says pointedly. Somehow, it gets across that she's not trying to stake a claim on him over Hawkeye - nothing like yesterday's kiss.   
  
"It's true, Beej," Hawkeye agrees. "You can't tranq yourself into a stupor forever. You're going to need some help."  
  
"Too bad we can't just call Sidney Freedman in for a house call," BJ muses, smiling. 

"Who says we can't?"  
  
" _Hawkeye_."   
  
"Okay, okay, not this weekend, but it's something to think about."  
  
"Ahem." Peg clears her throat and immediately regrets it as the pain spikes so hard her eyes water. "We're off track, gentlemen."  
  
"Well," says BJ, "I don't want to hurt anybody. I couldn't live with myself if I did that to you again....either of you," he finishes softly.   
  
"What's your idea, Hawkeye?" Peg asks.  
  
Hawkeye stares into his lap and fidgets. "I suppose we could do what we did last night - have me sleep on the other side in case he - in case I'm needed."  
  
Peg nods. "That's what I was thinking."  
  
BJ slides his forehead into his hands and closes his eyes with a heavy sigh. "And what am I supposed to do, exactly?"  
  
"Sleep?" Peg and Hawkeye answer in unison.  
  
BJ opens one eye. "Are you kidding? With you two - with _both of you_ in reach, in my _bed_ , I'm supposed to _sleep?_ "  
  
Peg's heart starts racing. Something's coming. An idea, maybe.   
  
Or a revolution.


	4. Hold

They decide to head out for the day. BJ wants to show Hawkeye the property at Stinson Beach. They still haven't managed to break ground on the place, but they visit it often, letting Erin clamber around the roots and rocks while they watch the ocean and dream. BJ drives them up into the hills, rolling the window down and hanging his head out, as he does whenever he gets near the water. Hawkeye leans from the back seat to scratch him behind the ears, then the nape of his neck. Peggy puts her hand on tops of BJ's on the stick shift, lacing her fingers in his, and, for a moment, he looks happier than he has since the war broke out.

They tumble out of the car, and BJ sets off into the trees, yelling, "Hawk! See this? I showed you a picture of this rock. And this, this is the tree that was half in the frame but now you can see it all! And -"  
he disappears around a corner. Hawkeye is grinning all the way to his eyebrows, and Peg feels a deep, rock-solid sense of rightness. The house is full of memories, full of tension. They belong under the trees, with all the possibilities of the ocean.

Peg stumbles over a stone she doesn't see, and Hawkeye catches her by the elbow, pulling her in as she gets her balance. His hands are stronger than their delicacy would imply. "Easy there," he says. "You're busted up enough for one weekend. Any more and the neighbors are going to start thinking there's something fishy going on at your house."  
  
Peg raises an eyebrow and shrugs. "I doubt their imaginations could get halfway to the truth," she mutters.   
  
"Oh, you'd be surprised," he says gaily. "Normal people get up to all sorts of oddities when they think no one's looking."  
  
"How would you know?" she teases.  
  
"Peg! Hawk! Where are you?" BJ's voice echoes up the path, and she knows exactly where he is.  
  
"How do we find him now?" Hawkeye asks, looking around for any sign of him.  
  
"Easy," says Peg. "We follow the sunshine."  
  
**  
  
They stop hamburgers at a roadside stop, where Hawkeye teaches them to dip french fries in milkshakes. BJ claims it's disgusting, but Peg finds something compelling about the contrast between hot, crispy, salty fries and the cool sweetness of a vanilla milkshake. He and BJ sit side by side at the picnic table, pressed from shoulder to ankle. Peg holds BJ's hand across the table, and he rubs his thumb over her wrist while they eat and talk, telling stories and dreaming about the possibilities for the house.   
  
"I want a hot tub," says Hawkeye. "One of those great soakers like they had in Tokyo. We could put it outside, where you can see the ocean - " he stops, catching himself, as if he's afraid he's just walked into a room uninvited.  
  
"That sounds divine," Peg agrees, trying to catch his eye and show him _it's okay. You're going to be there, too._ Because he is, of course. It may not be very often, what with planes and cars and small town doctor salaries being what they are, but whatever this becomes - whatever it is already - it's not going away. Not any time soon.  
  
"You think the land is big enough for a guest cottage?" BJ says suddenly, like he's testing a theory. "You know, something small - bed, small bath, maybe a hot plate - "

" - and a bar" Hawkeye interrupts, eyes twinkling.  
  
"We could put it by the hot tub," Peg adds. "Seems like a natural idea."  
  
**  
  
They're all being so careful with one another - BJ couldn't stop flinching and staring guiltily at her neck, so she tied a bright yellow scarf around it, which helped. He acts like he's torn between wanting to constantly reassure her (which, with him, always means touching - a hand on her back, a thumb grazing her skin, a quick kiss) and not wanting to touch her at all, for fear his hands will fly off and so something regrettable before he can catch them.  
  
Peg is making sure she laughs at all of Hawkeye's jokes, takes all of his ideas seriously (especially the ones that yield what she suspects will be her next great pregnancy craving), and tries to give him and BJ as much chance to touch as possible.   
  
Hawkeye is tuning himself to them like a radio station, shifting and experimenting and trying every line of humor, or humoring that will make them smile, will put them at ease.  
  
It's a long day of trying so very hard. But it's worth it when they get home, and BJ and Hawkeye flop down on the couch and Peg has every reason to go park herself between them, their arms woven together across her back while they watch the evening news.  
  
Nobody thinks about dinner until it's too late. Peg checks the fridge and announces they have bread, and eggs, some milk, and not much else. Hawkeye immediately offers to make French toast - insists on it, actually - and instructs BJ and Peg not to leave the couch until he calls them.  
  
They hear him clattering around the kitchen, and the occasional splat. Peg curls up into BJ and takes a long drink of his scent, the feel of his shirt on her cheek.  
  
**  
  
"Peggy Jane?" his voice is low, and soft, though Hawkeye wouldn't hear them anyway - he's started singing at the top of his lungs while he cooks.  
  
"Mmm?"  
  
"Are you still - do you still want to try putting us all together tonight?"  
  
"Mhmm."  
  
"I don't want you to think - I just want to know - I'm not even sure how to ask, but - "  
  
"What am I expecting?"  
  
"Well, yes."  
  
Peggy sighs and closes her eyes again. Makes it easier to say what she's about to say if she can't see him. "I don't know anything except that I want him to kiss you again. The way you did when he got here."  
  
"Peg?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Why? Won't it hurt?"  
  
"I don't know. But it didn't before. So we can start there. And maybe -" she pokes him in the ribs - "maybe you can kiss me, too."  
  
**  
  
The French toast is a delivered promise, and the kitchen isn't even close to the sorts of disasters Peg works up on a regular basis. They douse their dinners in syrup and eat with rapture. Peg can't remember the last time she had French toast. After dinner, Hawkeye makes them drinks while BJ does the dishes, insisting that Peg put her feet up. She protests until Hawkeye offers her one of his patented world-famous foot massages. She gives him a raised eyebrow, but sticks her feet in his lap.  
  
"See, I can do a really thorough job here," he says, working his thumbs into her arches in a way that makes her groan with satisfaction. "Some people in this house have acres of feet. Miles of feet. Oceans of feet. It's the most I can do to survey the landscape, let alone dig into it."  
  
Peg throws her head back and practically gargles with happiness. BJ must have told him about her weakness for foot rubs. Hawkeye goes to town, leaving no inch untouched, working his fingers in between her toes, using his knuckles to dig into her heels, and by the time BJ comes back from the kitchen, Peg is practically purring and Hawkeye has what can only be described as a canary-cat grin on his face.  
  
There is some quick agreement about the brushing of teeth and the making of various beds, and Hawkeye says he'll meet them upstairs in a few.   



	5. Space

_When you breathe in, or inhale,_

_your diaphragm contracts (tightens)_

_a_ _nd moves downward._

_This increases_

_t_ _he space_

_in your chest cavity,_

_into which your lungs expand._

_The intercostal muscles_

_between your ribs_

_a_ _lso help_

_enlarge the chest cavity._

\-- How the Lungs Work, National Institutes of Health

As she brushes her teeth, Peg mentally flips through every single nightgown she owns. The one she settles on has short sleeves and comes halfway to her knees - summery, almost demure, but with enough leg that it doesn't come off prudish. BJ keeps his pajama bottoms, but trades the top for a t-shirt. She comes to bed, heart pounding.  
  
Someone has made up the bed. The sheets are fresh and crisply tucked. It helps a little, not seeing the tumult of the morning. Without speaking Peggy and BJ walk down the hall and into their bedroom hand in hand. He squeezes her hand and she looks up at him. His eyes soften and fill as he sees the bruises on her neck again.   
  
She leads him to the bed, sits him on the edge so that she's a hair taller than he is. For a moment, she's reminded of their wedding night, of all things, the silence and quiet breathing. The way he looks at her is different now - familiar. haunted. loving. The moon is bright tonight. He lightly runs his fingers down her sides, She cups his face in her hands and leans in to kiss him.

It hurts - damnit, it hurts to kiss him, but Peg won't have him know that. She feels his hands gently on her back - lightly resting where they'd normally be tangling in her hair, or gripping her. He's still so scared. 

She hears Hawkeye at the door and takes another second with BJ's mouth before she stands up. This time, it's not about shutting Hawkeye out. It's about letting him in, letting him see. BJ is still fixed on her, reverent and tentative, gently taking her hands in his, like they're the only part of her he trusts himself with.  
  
She looks toward the door. "Come in, Hawkeye," she whispers. He's in pajamas, too, she can tell, with a worn red bathrobe slung around him like a security blanket. He softly pads across the room, light on his feet, stopping near the edge of their bed like he's afraid to get too close.   
  
BJ gestures him to come closer. Peg crawls into bed, tucks her knees up under her chin and leans against the headboard. Hawkeye stands before BJ like he's not quite sure what to do.   
  
"She wants to see - it's okay, Hawk," BJ explains, sliding his hand over Hawkeye's wrist. "Let me?"  
  
He kisses Hawkeye's palm, gently at first, but then Peg sees the outline of his head moving against Hawkeye's open hand, fingers splayed as BJ's tongue slips into the spaces between his fingers. He takes Hawkeye's pinky into his mouth and sucks it slowly, following with each finger up to his thumb. Hawkeye, she thinks, is trembling a bit, sucking air through his teeth like he's afraid to make a sound.   
  
And then BJ's head moves again, past Hawkeye's palm, over to his wrist, and she can hear his tongue on Hawkeye's skin, the lowest-decibel growl his chest can offer, and a small, breathy _"o_ h, _Beej"_ breaks loose from Hawkeye's lips.  
  
Peg can hear her pulse, can feel the rush in her ears, sweat on her neck. Her mouth, watering.   
  
Hawkeye seizes BJ's other hand and pulls it to his lips, giving BJ the same treatment. BJ is less quiet - he growls, loose and rumbling, gasps when - she assumes - Hawk's teeth find his skin, when Hawkeye takes two, then three of his fingers in his mouth and sucks them until his cheeks hollow. BJ presses his mouth into Hawkeye's other palm and muffles his moans.  
  
Peggy's hands are tingling. She doesn't realize how her breath has picked up, how watching them has her panting already, mouth hanging open. She's not sure if she's flushed with desire or fear.  
  
Both? Probably both.  
  
After another long minute of savoring each others' hands, BJ turns to her. "Peg?"  
  
"I'm okay," she croaks.   
  
"Is there anything we should do? Anything you want?"  
  
She pauses.   
  
"I'm not sure. What would you do if I wasn't here?"  
  
Hawkeye chuckles. "What wouldn't I do. But that's not here or there."  
  
"This is new for us, too," BJ adds. "It's not really about him and me, or you and me right now, is it?"  
  
Peg nods and slips under the covers in the center of the bed. "Join me?"  
  
"Where do you want me?" BJ asks.   
  
"Um, at my back," she says.   
  
"And me?" Hawk says quietly. "It's okay if you want me back downstairs. This can be enough for tonight, you know."  
  
"No, Hawkeye - I want you here. I want you - maybe on my other side, maybe facing me?"  
  
The men scramble into position, BJ sliding his arm under her pillow and pulling her close, Hawkeye coming around the other side of the bed, untying his robe and climbing in. He lies a few inches away from her, reaching over her to rest his arm on BJ's shoulder, not quite touching her. "Is this what you had in mind."  
  
"Mhmm." She squirms a bit against BJ at her back, enjoying feeling him hard and ready against her. She can't tell what state Hawkeye is in. Is she curious? Does she want to know?  
  
She reaches over to Hawkeye, runs her hand down his side, over the ribs she can feel under his shirt, the soft dip of his waist, his hip. Hawkeye sighs and falls a little bit towards her. She goes back to the top and does it again, petting him over and over. Yes, this feels good. She's not sure what comes next, but this is good. Slowly, after a few rounds, Hawkeye tentatively puts his hand on her ribs and tries the same thing. It's still good. BJ props himself up on his elbow and watches them petting each other, holding his breath.  
  
They stay like that for a long time. She realizes, at some point, that Hawkeye's other hand has found BJ's under her pillow and they're holding hands, fingers interlaced under her head. BJ presses a kiss to the back of her head, then one right by her ear and she hums her appreciation.  
  
"Peggy?" Hawkeye's voice is a tight, breathy whisper.   
  
"Hawkeye?"  
  
"I want to kiss you more than anything in the world right now," he blurts out, like he's afraid he'll take it back if he doesn't say it fast enough. Peggy considers it, still stroking him down his side. Does she want this?  
  
Yes, the answer comes. Yes, she just might.  
  
"Be gentle," she warns. "It hurts a little."  
  
Hawkeye scoots himself toward her just little more and leans in for a kiss so light she scarcely feels it, barely brushing her lips. Then a second kiss, just as light, on her cheek. She leans into him, pressing for a tiny bit more contact, boldly opens her mouth to him as he rolls toward her. Their bodies meet in the middle of it.  
  
If Peg was still wondering whether the festivities had any effect on Hawkeye, she's got her answer now. Hawkeye groans into her mouth, pushing his hips against her thigh for a split second before hauling himself back and she instinctively reaches around the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his hair. BJ's touch on her hip is still warm and comforting, and the sounds of Hawkeye panting and mewling as he kisses her are melting her from the inside out.  
  
Finally, he pulls away for a minute, rolling onto his back with his arm flung over his eyes. " _Gd_ , Peggy Hunnicutt, you are - you are every bit worth it. I can see why other women never interested him."  
  
Peg grins her own canary-cat grin. "You should've seen the bruises I left on _his_ neck the night before he left for Korea."  
  
"I wish I could say I remembered seeing them," Hawkeye confesses. "We were a little distracted the day he got in. But oh _gd_ , your lips are the most amazing thing since -"  
  
"Ahem," BJ growls teasingly from behind them. "Let's not get competitive here."

"I don't know; I think I need a basis of comparison," Hawkeye wheedles. "What do you say, Peggy, let him kiss us both and we'll be the judge?"  
  
"Sounds good to me," she grins.  
  
Her kiss with BJ starts sweet and slow, but soon, he's growling into her mouth, careful not to disturb her neck, but kissing her as deeply as he can, tongue searching and catching his teeth on her bottom lip. By the time he lifts his head, Peggy feels as deliciously languid as she did during Hawkeye's foot massage.  
  
"Okay," she says, slurring her words a bit. "Now s'his turn." BJ climbs out of bed and goes around to Hawkeye's side. He climbs in next to him, slips an arm under his neck, and lifts Hawkeye's head to his.   
  
If Peggy thought the sight of them worshiping each others' hands was hot, this brings it to a firey level she's rarely felt before. BJ's more aggressive with Hawk than he is with her, even when she's not injured - she can see his jaw working against Hawkeye's, their mouths so pressed together they look soldered. Every time he gets a breath, Hawkeye whimpers, high and thrilling, and she realizes _I want to make him sound like that_.  
  
She moves toward them, running a hand over BJ's back to let him know she's there. He looks up immediately. "Peg?"  
  
"Mind if I cut in?" she asks. Hawkeye groans. His words come out half-gasp, half plea, "Yes. Please."  
  
"Where do you want me?" BJ asks her quietly. Peg pauses again, searching for the answer. It takes her a few tries before she gives up on words entirely. She leans down and kisses Hawkeye like she saw BJ doing - deep, slow, her tongue slipping into his mouth for a second before she breaks it off. "Me, here," she says, finally. And then she takes BJ's hand and lays it over the evident bulge in Hawkeye's pants. "You, here."  
  
Hawkeye moans as soon as BJ's hand is on him, bucking against his hand and panting furiously. Peg isn't sure if she wants to watch or participate or both, but when BJ starts to move his hand with practiced ease, fingers working their way through the fabric to circle Hawkeye's erection, she gets an idea. She slips two fingers into Hawkeye's open mouth and it's the right move - he clamps on them immediately, sucking her deep into his mouth, working his tongue into the space between her fingers. Peg feels herself clenching, spilling, knees week and belly fluttering. BJ's hand is moving faster now, and Hawkeye's attention to her fingers is frantic. BJ's gaze goes from her to Hawkeye, to his own hand and back again. She meets his eyes and smiles as they work together.  
  
"Mmm! MMMPH!" Hawkeye strains against their hands, sucking hard on Peggy's fingers and moaning with his mouth full, and she can hear BJ say, "Peg? He's close" and Peggy pulls her fingers out in time to hear Hawkeye saying "please, please, please, please Peggy, I need it _I need - please_."  
  
"Tell her what you really need, Hawk," BJ interrupts, his voice deep and rough and commanding. He's never used a voice like that with her. "Go on, beg for it. Tell her."  
  
"I - I - I need _you_ ," Hawkeye wails. "I need you, please, please, don't stop, don't stop, Beej - Peggy - please tell him I need him; I need you I need you - " He rocks back and forth, trying to bury his head in the pillow, his whole body shaking with the effort of holding back.  
  
Peggy looks to BJ, a little confused and he gives her a grin that can only be described as wicked. "He won't let himself go until you tell him to," he explains, hand still steadily working Hawkeye through his pants. "He wants your permission."  
  
"Oh!" she leans over so she's right up against Hawkeye's ear. He's still thrusting into BJ's hand and it the sight of her husband's muscles flexing in the moonlight does things to her she can't even explain. "Yes, darling, yes. Let him make you come apart." She keeps whispering it over and over in his ear as he flies over the edge, bucking hard into BJ's hand with a wail that wrings him out.   
  
Peggy and BJ grin at each other with something like pride. Hawkeye lies in a puddle between them, panting and whimpering. "Now what?" Peggy whispers. "I think we broke him."  
  
"That's right," BJ answers. "And this is where we put him back together." He stretches out alongside them both and wraps his long arms around the two of them, pressing Hawkeye between them. Hawkeye mumbles incoherently as BJ soothes him. "That's right, Hawk, you go to sleep."  
  
He looks over at Peggy with adoration. "This - right here - this is how I kept _his_ nightmares away." She nods, feeling languid and sweet.  
  
She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. There is something in her chest she's never quite felt before. Something new.  
  
there's space.  
  
~fin~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure we'll be back, but this is where we pause for now. Thank you so much for being with me on this 30-day roller coaster ride. I hope you enjoyed the pain and angst ;-)


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